Going Without
by KarensDaughter
Summary: Sarah Williams hated sex. She had all but given up on the subject entirely when a very strange thing happened one afternoon. JS OBVIOUSLY. :P
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.**

_**Authors Notes: We hath returneth! With a delightful story in mind pour vous. Enjoy this little taste. :D **_

Sarah Williams _hated_ sex. There was nothing wrong with her physically. She was a perfectly healthy young woman with more than her fair share of fantasies, but she actually, truly and deeply hated sex. And, it wasn't because of any virginal misconceptions. She'd tried it out a couple of times, and it felt good if her partner knew what he was doing (which hadn't been very often). She hated it because it was so _dirty._ She shivered whenever she thought of someone else's naked skin against hers, someone else's sweat dripping on to her, someone else's…well, you get the idea. She hated the idea of being that _filthy._ All that exertion only to be sticky, sweaty, and…slimy…in the end. All this led to a shower, and Sarah found that she much preferred the shower part…without sex beforehand.

At first, it had all seemed like too much work, too much effort – so, she fell into a general dislike of the action. She would decline often, feign headaches, complain that she was too tired then roll over and fake being asleep. After all, she'd only just had a shower – she didn't want to get dirty _again_. Too much work. Then, from this general dislike grew a sort of fear. If she did have sex, she would get dirty and being dirty means that there was a transfer of germs, and in her opinion nothing was _that good_ it was worth dying from. She had thought that perhaps she just hadn't found the right man, but after several failed attempts at relationships she decided that it was just her preference. Her last boyfriend had called her the Queen of Headaches. She really needed to come up with new excuses. Needless to say, she simply decided to move on with life. She even considered becoming a nun simply to avoid being bothered with all this sex nonsense.

She had all but given up on the subject entirely when a very strange thing happened one afternoon.

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Jareth loved sex. Since he reached physical maturity, he had loved it. The thrusting, grinding, explosive rhythm of it all. He loved to bring his partners up, make them tumble down that hill of ecstasy over and over again, before he finally took his own release.

He had learned very quickly that sex was better for himself when he was good for his partners. He learned to explore a woman's body, find out the secret spots that were that woman's and no one else's. All of their individual curves and valleys. The types of touches they enjoyed, what might leave one cold, but the next crying out for more.

He learned to taste of women, found that every woman had their own distinct taste, a bouquet – much like a fine wine. He would imbibe frequently of his favourite vintages.

He knew that the hot, sweating meeting of bodies in beds, in dark corners, even on the dining room table was always going to be his favourite activity. He constantly felt so close to completion as he watched his lovers writhe and scream and beg for fulfillment. And he always felt almost invincible when he would enter them, and feel them pulsing around his manhood.

He knew the life he had was phenomenal – and so he never looked for anything more. He had believed that he was completely satisfied forever when a very strange thing happened one afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: We don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company. We do, however, torture them with ridiculous plotlines from time to time.

_AN: Hehehehe. :)_

Sarah was walking home, down a very mundane road, from her very mundane job. She worked in a call centre where she was forced to listen to the pointless drivel of teenagers with cell phone problems. While actively tuning them out, only listening for key words, she liked to write. She wrote poem after poem, and sometimes the occasional short story. It was the only thing that kept her alive through all the monotony of her day to day existence. Today she had written a particularly touching poem about the benefits of imaginary boyfriends. She could _think_ about having sex with said imaginary individual and avoid the whole messy business altogether.

This thought contented her greatly. She could become a nun and imagine having a boyfriend and having perfectly lovely, mess-free sex – in her mind. It was such a wonderful plan. She was thinking this, planning and scheming it all out as she rounded the same corner she always walked round, when she found herself face to face with a frequenter of her imaginary boyfriend dreams. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"You!" she said, her mouth hanging open and her hand poised in mid air, pointing at him.

"You!" he spat back, crossing his arms over his chest and muttering something that sounded like 'I should have known.'

"You're…," she started shakily, her mind betraying her with the reminder of her imaginary boyfriend plan. "You…"

She had the base instinct to turn and run and NEVER EVER look back, if only to avoid getting dirty. She had to admit that her memory was either getting a little fuzzy in her old age, or he was getting even better looking (if that was even possible).

"The Goblin King," she finished, nearly incoherently.

He frowned at her. "Of course I am. Have you gone daft, woman?"

Sarah shook her head wordlessly as her eyes drank in his tall, haughty appearance quite happily. Her hormones were betraying her: _get dirty Sarah. Get _real _dirty._ She grimaced and fought back a verbal retaliation on her mind. There was something so indescribably sexy about him and all his arrogance. He reeked of power and it made her want to be powerless under him – literally.

That was it! She'd had quite enough. She inclined her chin angrily and set her eyes to maximum hardness before turning on her heel and attempting to go back around the corner. The problem was that when she turned around, the corner _wasn't there_. Panic started to flare up within her. She was trapped. Her first instinct was to blame the Goblin King. His innate sexual presence was making her very irritable. She spun around again to find that the whole street motif was _gone_. Sarah glared at him only to find that he was glancing around his person with a rather disdainful expression.

"You!" she spat for the second time. He turned his attention upon her coldly. "You did this!"

Jareth huffed scornfully. "I assure you I did not."

"Well," she said angrily, advancing upon him in a rage. She didn't know why she'd moved forward at all. She must have been completely fuelled by fear to do so, otherwise she would have faced the _nothing_ that was currently surrounding them and thought about very ugly men drinking beer and scratching their testicles crudely. It was a better fate than looking upon a man of his attractiveness.

"Who else would have done this?"

Jareth dropped his arms to his sides and narrowed his eyes at her with contempt. "I assure you that I had nothing to do with this. Trust me, there are far better things I could be doing right now to occupy my time."

His expression changed suddenly and his eyes raked her from her head to her toes, lingering on more curvaceous areas as he went. Sarah alternately hated and enjoyed the sensation. "My, my, Sarah. You've grown up," he said huskily, a predatory smile stretched across his face. "Perhaps we can find something _entertaining_ to do together after all."

Sarah's mouth fell open in indignation. For a moment she was completely speechless. Before her tongue remembered how to work, her chin jumped in, inclining even further and leaving her nose high in the air.

"Don't even think about it."

Jareth smirked again as her green eyes flashed fury and her chin jutted petulantly. For all the years apart, and for all the growing up she had done physically – he let his eyes drift over her round breasts and full hips – she still had not matured at all. She was still the haughty, scared girl that had run his labyrinth.

A haughty, scared girl with a _great_ ass he amended, as she whirled away, trying to make sense of this void they were in. He didn't bother. He knew that there would be nothing to see here, until one of them created it.

Remembering the expression when he implied an intimate relationship, he grinned to himself, then adjusted the fit of his pants. If he had to be uncomfortable, so could she. Doing nothing more than willing it to be there, Jareth caused a bed to appear beside them.

Sarah spun around, and her eyes grew large when she saw the massive four-poster bed. It was immense, with silk sheets, and loads of pillows.

Jareth watched her take in the bed, not missing the fact that her nipples were at attention. He licked his lips, imagining the taste of those sweet soft breasts against his mouth, imagining how those nipples would pebble against the pressure of his rasping tongue. He walked closer to her, then passed around her, barely brushing his shoulder to hers. He was attuned to every little gasp and expression she made as he did so.

"Do you like it Sarah?" he asked, silkily. "You see, I understand that we are to be stuck here. And I'd rather be comfortable while we're here."

Sarah gritted her teeth and glared at him. "I knew you caused this to happen, you lecherous snake! How else would you be able to manipulate it?"

Jareth chuckled, then coming up behind her, murmured in her ear "I am not the only one with magic, you know. Someone else has done this. I am only manipulating it to my comfort. You can do the same."

Sarah snorted. "Oh, really?" She said, then closed here eyes and focussed on creating a chair for herself, far away from the bed. Opening her eyes, she found it had appeared. The basic, simple office chair from her cubicle at work. Padded, armless, and on coasters, it was possibly the least comfortable thing she had ever sat on. But at least it wasn't the bed.

She strode over to it and sat down, spinning quickly away from him. Jareth laughed out loud at her immature retaliation, the stretched out on his bed, crossing one booted foot over another. He gazed at her under lowered eyelids.

"That won't keep us apart long, my sweet. You know, very soon, that we are going to be together. Why fight it? You know sex between us would be fantastic."

Sarah curled her lip, and spun towards him for a split second, determinedly ignoring the long lithe form on the bed. "That would be impossible" she said, then spun back to gaze into the nothingness that was the void they were in. "I don't like sex at all."


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: We don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company. We do, however, torture them with ridiculous plotlines from time to time.

_AN: Sorry for the long delay in between postings. One of us has been obsessing over POTC and neglecting Labyrinth, while the other...actually has a life. sobs  
_

Jareth sat up from his relaxed position suddenly, sputtering, "_What?_"

Sarah glanced back at him over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows in confirmation. "I. Don't. Like. Sex." She paused for a moment in thought and made a face of pure disgust, "In fact, I hate it."

This was all the explanation Jareth needed to leap from the bed and circle her predatorily. He peered at her, his hand resting on his chin, as though inspecting a particular piece of art. He stopped in front of her and Sarah raised her eyes to his warily.

"There's nothing wrong with you!" he exclaimed.

Sarah frowned fiercely, "Of course there isn't!"

"But, how can you not like sex?" He asked the question with a strong note of disbelief, his tongue lingering lovingly on the last word.

Sarah shrugged absently. "I just don't, okay?"

"No! No, not okay at all!" Jareth couldn't help staring at her with thoughtful eyes, completely incredulous of her situation. Sarah frowned even further. At long length Jareth shrugged in defeat. "You must be doing it wrong."

"I have not been," Sarah spat through gritted teeth.

"Then the _men_ you've been with have been."

Sarah rolled her eyes at him and stared into the void once more. Jareth refused to move from his present position in front of her, so she found that instead of seeing the void before her eyes, she saw _the area_. She looked away abruptly and swivelled her chair. "I just don't like it," she muttered.

Jareth would not take this as an answer. He couldn't understand her way of thinking at all. How was it possible for Sarah, of all people, not to like sex? He could see the passion burning beneath her carefully cold exterior, so why had she condemned herself to a life abstinence?

"No," he said, moving in front of her once again. "I don't believe it. You must like sex."

"I assure you, I don't," she said with a resigned sigh. Jareth dropped into a squat before her so that he could see her eyes as he spoke.

"You don't find it pleasurable?" he asked, with concerned but intense eyes.

Sarah found it difficult to think straight with him looking at her like that. Her overactive imagination was already resorting to the bed behind them; to tearing off a white poet's shirt; to running her fingers through long platinum locks. _Dirty!_ She reminded herself abruptly. _Dirty, dirty, dirty! If you do that, then it's all sweat and sloppy bodily fluids. It leads to unnecessary showers._ Her mind quickly devolved into continuous showers – with the Goblin King in attendance.

She then debated briefly on the possibility of sex in the shower. It really killed two birds with one stone. Eliminated the dirtiness factor. A state of constant cleanliness. Constant cleanliness and slippery skin against skin contact combined with tiny droplets of warm water sliding down…. She closed her eyes briefly lost in the fantasy – until she heard a slight popping sound. Her eyes flew open to discover that Jareth had already turned his head in the direction of the sound. The cause of the sound? A shower, large enough for two, in the corner of the void. Her eyes grew wide in embarrassed surprise and her mouth formed a perfect 'O'. Jareth turned back to her, one eyebrow raised, his lips curling into a cruel smirk.

"I…I didn't…" she protested uselessly.

Jareth licked his lips and grinned. "You 'hate' sex, do you? Then why are you thinking so hard about such a large shower?"

He walked over and inspected the addition even closer. Sarah closed her eyes so she wouldn't see his form so close to the manifestation of her secret fantasy. "Hmm, a textured floor, and handholds throughout, lots of room to move . . ." he turned the tap, and the water hissed out of the showerhead, "automatically the right temperature. Oh, and even some scented shower gel." He left the water to create steam, and carried the bottle over the Sarah. We wafted it under her nose. "Sandalwood." He murmured, watching her jerk her head away.

He chuckled, then said "But there's something missing here . . . or else something that we have too much of."

He began to concentrate. There was another popping noise, then Sarah gasped as a sudden chill swept over her. Looking down, she discovered that she was no longer in her daily uniform of jeans and a t-shirt, but rather in a silk robe that gaped open to her navel, and stopped dangerously short along her thighs. As she struggled to wrap it closer around her, she heard Jareth's luxuriating sigh, and cut her eyes to him. He stood there in silk pyjama pants. And, nothing else.

Jareth could feel himself getting harder as he trailed his gaze over her long legs, over her round hips, catching a glimpse of her breast just before she tugged the robe closer together. He almost groaned aloud as his silk pants floated around his arousal, feeling as he suspected her skin would feel. If she would finally let him near her…

He had been shocked that Sarah claimed not to like sex, but had a suspicion as to her reluctance when the shower popped into view. She had had mediocre experiences – he placed the blame exclusively upon her former lovers – but had replaced her disenchantment with disgust for the more physical and less romantic aspects of the act. He closed in on her, and stood behind her stiffened back. He'd play it her way – for now.

"My dear Sarah," he purred, "what a wonderful idea. We'll take a shower" he slid the robe off her shoulder, "I'll soap you up," he dropped a kiss on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, "I'll rinse you off," he massaged little circles along the back of her neck, "then I'll get you off," he whispered into her ear, enjoying her gasp – and the view down her freshly loosen robe – "and the whole time, you'll be clean as a whistle."

Sarah's breaths came in small pants as she fought his seduction. Her hands kept clenching the edges of her robe, her face was flushed, and she was squirming on her chair.

Jareth grinned, then wrapped his arms around her from behind, spreading his hand wide over her belly, and pressing gently. He whispered into her ear again – "I can make you enjoy sex, again Sarah. Nice clean sex. And you'll like it so much, you'll want to try it again. But dirtier."

Sarah tried to jerk away, but the castors on her chair meant that Jareth could pull her right back into his arms with barely any effort. He grinned again, and let one hand play with the belt of her robe, slowly loosening it. "I can make you come in the shower, Sarah." He watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed nervously. "I _dare_ you to let me." He saw the fire in her eyes flare at that moment.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: We own nothing!! Labyrinth and its associated characters are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

_AN: Sorry for thr delay...we are naughty ladies...bwahahaha. _

The situation was rapidly spinning out of control now. She'd allowed her fantasy to get the better of her. The only _true_ way to have clean sex was not to have it all; live in her fantasy world with her fantasy men. It didn't help that one of them was standing behind her, with his arms around her, wearing practically nothing. But, he had pissed her off. If he thought she was childish enough to fall into the 'double dog dare you to' mentality, he had another thing coming.

She closed her eyes and thought about her favourite pair of pyjamas. They were about three sizes too big for her, covered with little, fluffy sheep and made of a very thick, Barbie pink flannel. She heard the pop and smiled with satisfaction when she opened her eyes to find Jareth currently gripping a handful of flannel instead of the belt of the robe. She gave her head a self-satisfied nod as Jareth exhaled in a hiss. He spun the chair suddenly and Sarah found herself face to face with his raging erection. She was shocked at first, obviously, but she still managed to drag her eyes slowly and coolly to his face.

"You are difficult, aren't you?" he hissed irritably.

"Likewise," she said icily. "Why don't you leave me alone?"

"I can't now," he muttered.

Sarah's eyes grew wide with indignation. "You can't blame me for _that_!" she hissed gesturing to his pants.

Jareth merely narrowed his eyes at her and shut off the shower with magic. He growled at her and Sarah found the guttural sound unexpectedly arousing.

"What does it matter to you anyway?" she said shrugging. "You can have anyone, so I think your time would be better employed figuring out how to get us out of here instead of needlessly trying to seduce me."

Jareth stared at her, blinking at her words. He was silent for a long while, lost in consideration. "It matters because it seems that I _can't_ have _you_," he said quietly, for once stoic.

Sarah stared at him wordlessly. She couldn't understand why the words of the lecherous Goblin King had touched her so. She tried to shrug it off as old age. Yes, she must be getting old and soft. Jareth stared at her for a moment longer, contemplating her logic.

"Needlessly?" he questioned.

"Well, it's not like your wanting in the sex department, or so you say. And, it's not like I want anything to do _with _the sex department. So, yes, it's all quite needless."

"I have needs."

Sarah raised an eyebrow and allowed her eyes to skim down his torso to his bulging pants. "So it would seem," she said wryly before dragging her eyes back to his face. "But I do not."

"You're lying."

"I'm not!"

"Then explain that," he said pointing to the large shower. Sarah raised her chin in defiance.

"I happen to enjoy showers."

Jareth titled his head to regard her with amusement. "With me in the room?"

"Someti…," Sarah stopped herself mid-word. _Oops._ "I mean…some weather we're having, eh?"

With that she twisted her chair around and stared at the void again, hoping that Jareth couldn't see her blush. She had given herself the disadvantage of not being able to see his face anymore, and as such she was unable to see the pleased smile on it currently.

"All right Sarah, I give in." Jareth purred as he let his eyes wander over her seated figure. "I quit. You win. Obviously, you have no interest in sex, so we'll drop the subject."

She whipped around, almost snapping her neck. "Wha...?" she winced, then rubbed the sharp sprain at the nape of her neck.

He smiled and slowly glided towards her. "We're stuck here, and although I would love to make love to you for as long as we're here, but" he acknowledged the way her lip curled "you are obviously not interested. And unwilling sex is something I've never enjoyed. So, we'll do something that you might enjoy."

Sarah watched him suspiciously. "What would that be? Monopoly? A movie?"

"No," He rested his hands on the points of her shoulders. "A massage." He felt her stiffen immediately, but kept his hands just at her shoulders, rubbing gently. As she slowly started to relax, he moved his hands up to the nape of her neck, down to her shoulder blades, then up into her hair.

Twenty minutes into the massage, Sarah let her head drop forward under his hand and moaned in pleasure.

Jareth smirked viciously at the sound and began to work his way back down her back. As his hands delved lower and lower, creeping around the sides just enough to peak her interest but not enough to anger her, Jareth considered his options. It was a well-known fact in both his realm and Sarah's that seventy percent of massages ended in sex. Perhaps if he played this game a little longer, the prize would be his to claim.

He could feel her muscles melting against his palms and wondered just how far to take his little game. Deciding that there was more to gain than to lose, he moved in to kiss her neck. At first, Sarah didn't notice as the pressure on her lower back was just heavenly. There was only one way to improve it and that was by kissing her neck. _KISSING HER NECK?_

Jareth felt Sarah's muscles contract all at once and she jerked her head away from him, thus undoing all his hard work. He sighed miserably. She was rather difficult, but he was far from defeated.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"For someone who hates sex, you certainly make some…arousing…noises," Jareth said with a mischievous grin.

"For someone who gave up, you certainly," she paused, trying and failing to reach a witty retort, "kissed my neck!"

"Indeed," Jareth replied dryly, amused by her current lack of coherence.

Sarah whipped her head away from him in irritation thereby whipping Jareth with her long, dark locks. He caught a tendril within his fingers and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply.

"You smell delightful," he whispered into her ear blissfully aware of the blush that crept up along her neck.

Sarah screamed in frustration. "Fine! Let's do it. If having sex, and me hating every second of the slimy, sweaty, stinky experience will make you get the hell away from me, let's jut get it over with." She walked over the the bed, stripped herself bare, and flopped down. "Anytime you're ready. Just get it over with."

Jareth wrinkled his nose at Sarah's blunt description of sex. It was not enough to deter him, especially after he saw her full soft breasts emerge from her pyjamas - but it was enough to make him slow down and think. He smiled slowly as he strode to her.

"Well, I think we should try to make it a little less sweaty and stinky." With his will he ran the water in the shower. "but you'll still enjoy it." He took her hand and pulled her up from the bed and to the shower. Before she stepped in, however, he dipped his head to rub his lips over her nipple, bringing it to life.

Sarah twitched, and glared at him, but said nothing more and stepped into the shower, the hot water bouncing over her breasts and running down her softly rounded belly and between her legs. Jareth watched the droplets hungrily as he shucked his silk pants letting them pool on the floor.

Sarah attempted to look disinterested in Jareth's lack of pants, but found her eyes had minds of their own and often crept over to sneak a glance. In a vain effort to distract herself from the sight her wandering eyes viewed, she dragged them up to stare at the ceiling while clearing her throat loudly in the process. She could hear the smirk in Jareth's chuckle and it made her want to put her clothes back on and run away – but no, she had said she'd do it, and do it she would. She crossed her hands chastely on her chest and continued to stare at the ceiling.

Jareth was both equally amused and disturbed by the sight before him. In a way, Sarah resembled some sort of perverse version of a nun; her eyes pointed heavenward and her fingers intertwined over her chest. He wondered, briefly, if she had developed some sort of link between chosen celibacy and her own lack of pleasure. Jareth's mouth twitched slightly – he'd always felt that a woman entering the nunnery was a waste of a perfectly good potential partner for him. Well, he'd be damned if he was going to let Sarah Williams slip out of his grip.


End file.
